Friday, April 03, 2015

Joe Schemtob's 'Kachagh' trail to freedom: Part 2

Joe Schemtob was a pioneer of the Kachagh smugglers' route out of Iraq taken by thousands of desperate Jews after 1970. After Part 1, here is the second part of his story.

Part 2: we embark on our dangerous and dramatic mission

On 27 July at 20.00, we left on mules
on our way to Iran. We were very happy and excited. We prayed that God Almighty would save us from the Iraqi tyranny.

As Doudi’s back
was still poorly, he was unable to ride a mule. The smugglers suggested putting
a rice sack on each side of the mule and then laying a mattress over the
sacks. Doudi would then be tied onto it.
the journey traversed steep mountainous paths with streams flowing across, normally suited only to the fit and
well.

Now the drama of our journey started. On the crest of the hill,
suddenly the caravan stopped. Shecho said
that they only wanted to rest. We& noticed that suddenly an argument had broken
out amongst the smugglers. None of us could understand Kurdish but we felt
uneasy. I asked Shecho what was wrong, but
he assured me not to worry. Rahman suddenly turned his horse back and headed back towards
Zena. Within a few minutes,
all the smugglers including Shecho had followed Rahman. They had left us strandedon the
top of the mountain.

We had no other choice but to go down the mountain,
back to Kurdistan.
On
the main road, luckily, a taxi passed by
and took us back to Darband. A person from the Iraqi Government occupied
one of the hotel rooms, but the other two were vacant so we took them.
Did those smugglers want to kill us and take our belongings, or did they just
wantour belongings and to leave us on the mountain to make our own
way? We will never know, but we must thank God and Rahman for reporting to Major Shakeeb that we were stranded on the
mountain near Zena.

From this point on, Major Shakeeb personally looked
after us.
We heard
voices
outside. I looked out and saw five or six Pesh Merga with their guns, and
Shecho handcuffed, with his head down so as not to be seen.

I knew that we had been found out. I
was not so worried
about
the Pesh Merga,
about
the guest next door
who was a member of the Iraqi government.

I approached
a smartly-dressed man
amongst the Pesh Merga and asked if he spoke English. I did not want to alert the
Iraqi government official, whom I hoped wouldn’t understand English, to our predicament. The person introduced himself in English as Major Shakeeb
of the Pesh Merga.

He knew that we were Jews that
were trying to escape to Iran. I took him to Doudi’s room and asked him how
he knew. He said that he found a Hebrew prayer book amongst our
belongings. I asked him whether I could see Mr Zaid Othman, the
Foreign Minister of Barzani's Kurdish goverment who lived only a stone's throw away from the hotel
in Darband. He told me that Mr Othman was in Baghdad and enquired how I
knew him. I replied that he was a friend and a tennis colleague.

He asked what our reason was for going to Iran. We
confessed that it was principally
; to escape the atrocities
of the Iraqi Government.
Doudi needed an operation on his back
impossible to arrange
in Baghdad. Our plan was to go to
Iran and from there to England
for
the operation.
We
begged him to help us by not telling the Iraqi
authorities.
To our surprise,the Major
said that he would be pleased to help us.

Darband was a
dangerous place and he wished to take us immediately somewhere safer He called us two taxis at
12.30 am and took us to a house to sleep. The occupants were ordered to leave. He would return in the morning.

Fahima went to bed first. She saw something metal under her pillow. It was a gun. I took
it from her and put it somewhere safe. I had faith in Major Shakeeb. Poor Doudi was sceptical and worried what the
next hour would bring. Major Shakeeb could not tell us much, apart from
assuring us that everything was going to plan.

On 28th July
1970, Shakeeb brought two Land Rovers and took us to a safer place
called Chooman where no ordinary cars could pass. There were only two
semi-
detached houses and he said that we should remain here until we could
travel
to Iran. We simply had to believe him.
In Chooman, our kind neighbours brought us more than enough to eat: a samovar to make tea,
cream, fresh baked bread baked in the Tannoor oven, eggs, jam and milk.
They were incredibly kind and we
were grateful for their hospitality.

We stayed in Chooman until
5th August. At around 20.00 hours, I saw a
light coming towards us, perhaps the headlights of a car. Major Shakeeb came out. He announced "tonight
you will be going to Iran." We could not believe it. We were so happy. We quickly packed all our
belongings and squeezed ourselves into one Rover car. Major
Shakeeb was not coming with us: someone ranked much higher would be looking after us.

We
bid him farewell and thanked him for all he had done for us. He refused to take our 'present'.
In 20 minutes we had reached a house in Haj Omran .None other than Masuad Barzani, the Kurdish leader, came to the room and introduced himself.

Mr Barzani
was a gentleman He asked if there were more people who wanted to
leave Iraq illegally to Iran. He said that he would be willing to help them cross
the border.

I suggested going back to Baghdad by myself to
bring my brother Djamil and his family and other
friends. However, Doudi was not in favour of this idea as it would be too
dangerous. I agreed but my conscience wanted to save them.

We drew up a list of over twenty people who would be
interested in leaving Iraq. The list was to be handed to my brother Djamil, and
he would inform the others. Unfortunately the list was given to Nissim Shina.
Not only did he himself cross the border with his friends, but the list never reached Djamil or the others who wanted to escape.

We hugged Mr Barzani and thanked him for what he had done for
us. He provided us with two cars to take us to Iran. He added, that at Khana (the border), an
Israeli agent would be contacting us.

The
Israeli agent visited us in our hotel. The next evening we took
the train to Teheran.
On our arrival , to our surprise, the Sofer and the
Chitayat families were waiting for us at the station. They rented a flat for us and drove us straight there.

We had a wonderful time
in Teheran with our friends and the happiness of leaving Iraq contributed to
our joy.
On 10th August, we left Teheran for Israel. We met friends
and had a very good time.

I left for London on 21st of August 1970, and it
was a great joy to reunite with Foufou and David after exactly six years.
On 3rd September 1971, we were very glad to have Ronnie, our second son.
This is our long and dangerous story, which ended well.

I am glad people made it the same way; others made it in different ways. I am sorry that
some had a hard time, like (my brother) Djamil and (sister) Rachel who were
caught on the way to Iran. It could have been easier if they had received the list.

What I did was a very dangerous thing. I did not do it because I was
brave. I did it because I had to, with God’s help. He gave me the courage to
undertake such a responsible and dangerous mission - we could have
easily lost our lives. Thank God, a million times - He helped us all the way.

Just before we left Teheran, Morris Khalastchi and his family came to Iran, also
Khachagh. He told me that
my father Heskel Schemtob had made the Aliya of 120, 000 people to
Israel possible, and now twenty years later, I had blazed the trail.

“It
was great work done by both of you.”

I do not, however, believe that I had
done even one percent of what my father achieved.

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Introduction

In just 50 years, almost a million Jews, whose communities stretch back up to 3,000 years, have been 'ethnically cleansed' from 10 Arab countries. These refugees outnumber the Palestinian refugees two to one, but their narrative has all but been ignored. Unlike Palestinian refugees, they fled not war, but systematic persecution. Seen in this light, Israel, where some 50 percent of the Jewish population descend from these refugees and are now full citizens, is the legitimate expression of the self-determination of an oppressed indigenous, Middle Eastern people.This website is dedicated to preserving the memory of the near-extinct Jewish communities, which can never return to what and where they once were - even if they wanted to. It will attempt to pass on the stories of the Jewish refugees and their current struggle for recognition and restitution. Awareness of the injustice done to these Jews can only advance the cause of peace and reconciliation.(Iran: once an ally of Israel, the Islamic Republic of Iran is now an implacable enemy and numbers of Iranian Jews have fallen drastically from 80,000 to 20,000 since the 1979 Islamic revolution. Their plight - and that of all other communities threatened by Islamism - does therefore fall within the scope of this blog.)